Number One Contender
by MemaiS
Summary: A series of drabbles that serve as a continuation to Next Contestant. Chapter 24: And she's sure all that glitters is gold, she's buying a stairway to heaven.
1. Observation 22: Holiday Spirit

_Disclaimer: Bully is owned by Rockstar Games. Original characters belong to their respective owners._

_A/N: Guess what? It's back. Memai and Turmoil have teamed up to finish off this story once and for all! Awesome, no? And here we go; a new chapter, rather lengthy and a new character appears! Previous chapter: http : / / www. fanfiction. net/s/3618174/21/NumberOneContender (without spaces)  
_

**Observation Twenty-Two: Holiday Spirit**

There was always something about the holidays that seemed to change people.

Some were happy to be reunited with friends and family once thought long lost, some would mope around, still trying to move on from whatever tragedy that struck them in the months before. All the same, all the same, the snowflakes still fluttered in the December winds and the chills were still sent down spines. Trees were decorated and presents were wrapped, dinners were made and songs were sung.

Jimmy trudged through the thick snow that had fallen overnight. As pretty as it was to see the landscape covered in a blanket of snow, it just made him feel a little more irritable now that he was forced to walk a little slower than his usual, preferred pace.

The events that had chronicled so far had left him confused at best, at Benji suddenly leaving and the silence between them. He knew where the small boy had gone; maybe even had a small clue as to why he went too…but all the same, Jimmy would have liked a proper explanation.

"Damn it, Ben," he muttered as he kicked the ground, sending some snow into the air. Everyone seemed to have plans to go out and visit their families, to go back home and into traditional family dinners. Not that Jimmy ever had a chance to experience such a thing and as much as he'd liked to, this wasn't time for reflecting on things he had to live without.

He had to find Benji, find out what's up, and maybe keep the kid from getting himself killed every two seconds. The so-called king had looked high and low, asking every student he saw if they knew where the wheat-blonde imp went, or at least have a clue where his home was.

"Benji, that doll-face kid? Man, haven't seen him."

"Who are you talking about, Hopkins?"

"Benjamin? Can't say I've seen him. Try asking those other little kids, maybe they know."

"Maybe he went and migrated to the Far East; to learn the art of peace and serenity, to calm one's body with an inhale of air. LIKE A NINJA!"

So far, he drew a blank, no one was in the know, no one had the four-one-one, and some didn't even know who the boy was.

_Goddamn retards! Why do I even bother with them?!_

"This is _stupid_," Jimmy growled to himself. "Where the hell did that runt go?"

While his efforts were fruitless for the most part, from snooping around, he found out that Benji was from another place altogether, the infamous New York City, but seeing as Jimmy wasn't all in the mind to cycle (let alone skate or run) or pay a ridiculous, holiday fare all the way over, he scratched out the possibility that Benji decided to get back in touch with his roots. As far he could care, the runt most likely didn't even have enough money for even a one-way ticket.

"He's just a kid. He couldn't have gone off _that_ far."

It was then he saw a one Pedro De La Hoya walking past, it was then Jimmy dragged the boy off to the side for a small chat. Of course, the younger Hispanic boy let out a surprised yelp when the older boy grabbed him by the arms rather roughly, and looked up at Jimmy with frightened, teary eyes.

"P-Please sir, I didn't do anything wrong. P-Please don't beat me up" He boy was practically begging now, looking so pathetic and helpless that Jimmy almost shoved the boy away in disgust. He never _could _stand the hopeless ones…

"Look kid," Jimmy stated flatly, "this isn't about you. Listen, I need to know where your friend Benji went. You got any idea of where he could be?"

"B-Benji, sir?"

"You deaf, kid?"

"N-No, sir, but… didn't he go home for the holidays, sir?"

"Well…I think I'd like to pay him a visit." Jimmy's voice was feigned with saccharine sweetness, something eerily out of place for the boy's demeanor. "He's my friend too, and it _is_ the holidays after all."

Naïve Pedro bought it all, like flies to a jar of old honey. "How thoughtful of you, sir! But… I'm not sure where he lives, sir. I think his friend Roxy might know."

Wait. What? Who was this now?

"Roxy? Roxy who?"

Jimmy was pretty well-versed in recognizing students that inhabited the academy, he knew their names, or nicknames at the very least, their cliques, their habits, who they hung out with and who was dating who. What's a king if he was ignorant to his own people? But over time, with new students flooding in and out of the academy, there have been a few faces he never came to recognize, or never had a name tacked on to a face he saw everyday.

Who the hell was this Roxy chick?

"Roxy, you know, she's one of the new students." And as Pedro described her, the girl's face came to mind. He remembered distinctly about Preps and Greasers going up in arms over this small girl from England, how she was even dating the new leader of the greasers. Even more shockingly, he had discovered she had developed something of an older sister role to Benji, and felt stunned at the feelings of hurt that ran through his body.

Why didn't Benji ever mention her? Didn't he trust him?

Just like his more famous analogies, Benji was like an enigma, an onion of sorts; there were layers of secrets to this boy, and the more he peeled away, the more there was to him, and usually, the messier it got. Tears wouldn't certainly be spared for each new discovery, but for Jimmy to cry over a friend's misfortune was a sight that would bring on the apocalypse.

So he held it all in.

He still had a lot to learn, and he was going to get a head start now. First of all, he had to find Roxy, a short, blonde, flat-chested English chick who apparently "knew Benji like the back of her hand." Hoping she knew where her loyalties laid, Jimmy headed straight for the auto-shop.

--

There was snow even on the creaky wooden porch of his little run down home, but Benji couldn't care less. He was home, he was in his little haven, safe and sound where the wolves won't come. Here, he could forget about his growing pains and growing troubles at school, he could forget the taunts, the hurtful words and the careless acts.

Best of all, he could forget Adrian, and he could just let himself _go_.

The boy pushed his glasses up, admiring the simple wreath that had decorated the front door, shabby as it might've been. Bending over and lifting a loose board from its place, the small, wheat-blond boy smiled as his eyes fell on a hidden key below the floors. Taking it, Benji unlocked the front door, opening it slowly as he poked his head inside nervously. "Meela…? Meela, I'm home for the holidays."

Silence.

He stepped in all the same; a little worried he didn't get an immediate response, and placed his bag of belongings on the worn, beaten couch. It was then he was nearly shocked out of his senses, when he heard the very happy cries of a mother.

"My baby's home! My baby's home!" Meela came rushing down the wooden stairs, wearing a smile on her face so wide that her cheeks were nearly gone. She scooped the boy in her arms and kissed him tenderly on the forehead, bringing him into a large hug and an even tighter grip.

"Meela…!"

It was getting a bit difficult to breathe, but Benji didn't care. He was home now.

"Put your coat away, baby. I'll get you some hot chocolate—it's heating on the stove. Oh, and Loretta's helping with dinner tonight, isn't that sweet of her?"

He was home now.

--

The Shortman household was a far cry from your average one. The members of the family itself were an imperfect match of class and wit, producing a level-headed, opinionated child (who had more of his tongue to sharpen than a blade itself).

Most households didn't take in boarders, either. Of course, there would be the odd home who would rent out a room or two to desperate college students or starving artists, and as strange as those could be, the Shortman resident housed even stranger still. As Benji sat on the living room couch, sipping delightfully on a hot mug of cocoa, he couldn't help but smile at the oddballs his mother had invited into their home.

There was General Loretta, an aged woman of intelligence and strength, boasting a pair of lovely gray eyes and striking auburn hair. She never ran out of stories to tell, always telling the family of the places she went and the people she met. And it was obvious that she was quite the traveler, for her toned body and limbs paired with a tanned glow showed nothing less of a healthy, adventurous woman.

And with places and people, there were the few oddities that she had picked up. She wore strange bangles and jewels on her arms and in her hair, each of them with their own tale of mishap and luck. Exotic designs and alien language abound, she had the tendency to wear the traditional dress of a forgotten tribe from time to time, and would even greet them in another language if she so pleased.

Her beau, an old Chinese man who went by the name Kaigu Sai, was no different. He too, met Loretta on his many random travels, and they had been together ever since, braving forests and mountains and ruins, they spun incredible tales peppered delightfully with humor, wit and charm. Their oddities were a welcome addition to the family, they made the most mundane day that little bit more interesting.

Most would turn them away and write them off as weirdos with certainly nothing better to do in their free time. Just two hack job writers who lived in their own fantasies and child-like imaginations.

But as strange as they were, they were a great help and incredibly nice for people so well versed and so seasoned with the variety of human race and culture. For they not only chased the Monday blues away, they also helped pay for the rent, something Meela appreciated very, very much, more so that they were always so very precise with their payments (even if the mother would tell them that they could take their time, for she knew how hard it was to come up with money seemingly out of thin air). And really, they had helped with some of the house work, and would even help prepare some of the dinners too, all on their own will, all out of the goodness of their hearts.

Even if they did seem a little bit insane.

Just a little bit.

--

The auto-shop was a place so potentially lethal that the smell of grease and leather hit you _hard_ upon entry. Unlucky ones were unable to see two ways to Sunday, and how these grease-balls could manage to stand it was another mystery altogether. Still, as much as he disliked coming to this portion of the school, Jimmy had no choice. He had to look for Benji, and the only person who had any clue where he could've gone to, was right here, probably making out notoriously with that anatomically challenged boy Peanut.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, for the moment he merrily walked into the area, he saw the greaser leader and the others, laughing up a storm over some dirty joke, no less.

"Hey, Peanut!" Jimmy called out, and the taller boy looked back, the smile he wore disappeared in an instant, and wore an indifferent expression in place of it. He never really liked it when Hopkins came over, usually it meant some Prep crying over a water balloon or a generally harmless prank.

He _**really**_ didn't want to deal with him right now, "What'dya want, Hopkins? If it ain't nothin', you better get goin'. Preppies ain't nothing but big crybabies."

"This isn't about them." He said flatly, looking over the boy's shoulder, trying to find a small blonde girl, who would probably look like Lola's clone. Peanut did follow in Johnny's footsteps, who's to say his girlfriend wouldn't be a slut too? "I need to see Roxy, she knows where Benji is and I need to talk to him, it's kinda important."

It took them a moment, Peanut staring stupidly at the so-called king before he realized just who he meant exactly, "OH! You mean Nightingale, right?"

"Uhh…" _What the Hell? WHO NOW?! _"Yeah, let's go with that."

Just like that, Peanut put on a suspicious tone, "Any reason why ya want ta' see her? She don't know too many boys like yous."

"I've got a good reason, punk. Just let me see her."

"Fine then," looking back, the greaser leader called out, "'EY! Marty, go get Nightingale for me, will ya? Say she's got someone fer her."

A small, young greaser around the corner nodded and rushed off to one of the more unused (and arguably more cleaner) garages in the area, coming back not a few minutes later with a short, sweet looking girl. Her general appearance, especially with the large book in her hands, made her look nothing like a girl a greaser would date, let alone kiss or willingly bestow a sickeningly cliché nickname like 'nightingale'.

"This is Roxy?" Jimmy raised an eyebrow, looking at the girl up and down. She was a demure girl, with pale skin and a ruddy nose. Bright blue eyes matched well with short, straight, bob-cut blonde hair, neatly worn under a leather cap. But what really sent the boy into all sorts of shock, was that she wore both an intricately decorated leather jacket _and_ a much-too-obvious Aquaberry sweater and scarf combo underneath.

_And they haven't killed you yet? How is it I've never heard of you?!_

"You got a problem with that, king?" Peanut said a bit too bitterly, but his small moment of anger was soothed away when the small girl touched his hand and told him to settle down.

"So, you're Roxy, huh?" Jimmy said, "Never seen you around."

"I don't talk a lot." Her voice was soft, quiet, a little squeaky, all with a heavy London accent. For a moment, Jimmy wondered if she was real deal, unlike the faux English demeanor the Preps favored so much. "And I don't really like to walk around so much, it's such a bother, I'd much rather read," she said with a giggle, holding up a medical journal.

"… Right. Anyway, word on the street is, you know Ben."

"Yes. He's gone home for the holidays, if you're looking for him."

"I got that," he nodded, "But I need to see him about something, something really important. I know you care a lot about him and stuff, so if you could just tell me where he lives, I'll glad—"

"Tell you where he lives?" She wore a dark look, a complete contrast to the sweet happy look she had just moments ago, and almost sent Jimmy jumping back, "I'm… I'm sorry, I can't. I promised him I won't tell anyone _exactly_ where he is, I'll honor that promise, just as I'll honor his friendship."

_Jesus Christ…_

"I know you're worried about Benji," she said quietly, "I am too." She was looking down now, tearing up a little, "He's been getting into so much trouble lately, I've been doing all I can to help… but I think this will do him good, if we just leave him alone for a little bit."

"Listen, Roxy—"

"And really," she interrupted, "Benji's home now with his family. He really misses his mother, he needs a break from Bullworth. He really does, the poor bugger."

Jimmy honestly didn't know what to say to this. Sure, his own mother wasn't the greatest in the world, many other nonchalant mothers did better than she could hope to be, but there were times when he did miss coming back home to her, at least the meals she tried to cook were better than the things Edna could come up with on a good day. He knew what it was like, he's been there, and it seemed like this Roxy girl knew too.

But sentimental feelings aside, he still needed to find Ben, even if all he wanted to do now was just say "Hey, Merry Christmas!" and bolt to the nearest bus stop and go back.

An awkward silence passed between the two, and was broken by Peanut when he put his hands on Roxy's shoulder and wanted to usher her away, but that never happened as Jimmy piped up afterwards, "Could I just at least see the little runt to make sure he didn't get killed on his way home? You said so yourself, he gotten himself into trouble more than once with all these kids. You know how they're like these days."

And the trick seemed to work, for she perked up at hearing the freckled-faced boy's words and turning to him with a worried glance.

"Wouldn't take that chance, you know…" he continued.

"I…"

"I mean, you're really close to him, aren't you? Pedro said you always looked out for him."

And that was all he needed to say before she finally broke and let cats out of the bag, "I… Oh, for goodness sake, alright!" She stomped up to him and had to force the truth out of herself, "I… I promised 

Benji that I won't tell anyone where he _exactly_ was, but he never said not to tell anyone which area he stayed in."

Specifics, specifics, but he knew where she was getting at. He was going to get a more than helpful clue, and if it took a bit of finding, he certainly wouldn't mind. He just needed to _know_.

"Blue Skies," she said quickly, almost pursing her lips shut and looking away nervously, "In Blue Skies, you'll find him."

"That runt lives in that shit hole?" Peanut commented, "Always thought he was a preppie scum."

"Larry! Don't say that, it's so mean." She berated him quietly through bared teeth.

"Blue Skies, huh?" Jimmy looked back, shivering slightly as the winds blew a little stronger, "I'll let you know how he's doing. Thanks a lot."

"Wait!" Jimmy was walking off already, but was stopped when the short girl came up to him and grabbed his arm, "Wait."

"What?"

"If he asks you… say… say you found out from someone else. The last thing I need is my best friend angry at me."

"You got it, babe."

"Watch it, Hopkins." Peanut warned as he watched the freckled teen walk off into the direction of the Boy's Dorm.

_Time for a little visit._

_--_

Jimmy didn't particularly like Blue Skies Industrial Park.

He usually visited Bullworth Town or Old Bullworth Vale whenever he left the academy. In those particular places, he'd pass through wide streets that were neatly lined with elm trees and sycamores. He'd see deep, lush green lawns that were edged with geraniums, snapdragons, and bright red roses. He would rest in pretty parks where children played on painted red slides and rusty old jungle gyms, with their mothers waiting in the shade of broad, flowering mimosas.

However, Blue Skies Industrial Park—residential home to the Townies and, by proxy, Benji and Meela—was an absolute shit hole.

This part of Bullworth looked like the places where Jimmy had lived in when he was little, before his mother began her gold-digging, promiscuous ways. It was a neighborhood the color of brown gravy, with streets that were lined with shallow ditches filled with brackish water. There were no parks here, save a random backyard swing or two, but even those dangled from broken chains that hung on dying trees. There were no jungle gyms to play from. Only empty, broken down cars served as a child's plaything, but only if skinny dogs and old men weren't nearby.

In the background, large, hulking structures of metal and steel towered over the rundown houses of the residential area, looming like an ominous figure of monotony over its occupants.

By government standards, Blue Skies was theoretically better than New Coventry. _That_ part of town had nothing but old, rundown tenements and near worthless shopping stores. However, there was a different atmosphere in New Coventry that made it at least a _little_ better than Blue Skies, which gave the Greasers a sense of pride whenever they came across a dropout or some other Townie.

In New Coventry, there was still hope. There was still a chance to succeed, to escape from the confines that the residents of Bullworth had so carefully constructed. The Greasers knew this—they _thrived_ on it. But the Townies didn't have such hopes. They couldn't.

Blue Skies was, quite literally, the end of the line.

However, Benji and Meela lived there now. Benji still had youthful aspirations, despite the bitterness that often accompanied it. It was for him that Jimmy came to this desolate part of the town, and it was for him that Jimmy now passed by the old houses in the residential area, trying to figure out which one might belong to the small boy and his young, weary mother.

The houses, their roofs patched like old scrap quilts, sat crookedly in yards that were littered with rusted car parts on concrete blocks. Most looked the same, many looked dilapidated. But at the end of them all, at the end of the street, was a home that stood out from amongst the rest.

It was a clean home that had been covered top to bottom in Christmas ornaments, mistletoe, and Fourth of July decorations. It was a comfortable home that had its dirt carefully weeded, its porch painstakingly fixed, and it was a modest home, scrupulously cleaned inside and out, fussed over, and tended with care.

Not a single streak on those white-trimmed windowpanes. Not a single sign of plant life on its concrete pavements.

The house shocked him. On sight, he knew it had to be Benji's house. No one else in this area celebrated the holidays with so much gusto and fervor, no one he knew of, anyway.

Yet the sight of this proud little home, the sight of the pride that Benji and Meela possessed in simply making it so that their house stood out from the rest…it suddenly made Jimmy nervous. He knew that he wasn't completely in their circle of trust yet, and he knew that Benji was still somewhat sore with him despite the fact that they had patched up their relationship a while ago. The small boy seemed to get furious anytime Jimmy even _thought_ about nosing into his business, and to just show up on their front porch unannounced…

That was pretty much suicide.

And on a private matter, he wasn't sure what he would do if Meela stood in front of him, smiling that soft, gentle smile of hers.

The whole situation made him feel overwhelmed and overmatched, and he suddenly felt stupid.

Frozen. Every part of him was frozen. And he didn't like that feeling one bit.

--

_So I went to their house. And it wasn't at all what I expected. Their house, I mean._

_They surprised me. I was expecting another crack home like every other crack home in the area. No offense to Benji and all, but like flocks to like, and people tend to blend in with their surroundings. It's a fact of human life, and it's more proof that we're actually no better than animals._

_But they surprised me with that…interesting looking house. And you know? This made me examine my own expectations. Had I been unconsciously looking down on Benji and Meela? Because god knows I never meant to._

_I'll never know how I got the nerve to walk up to their front door. I almost wanted to sneak in the back window, surprise the hell out of Benji, and leave the presents before anyone even knew I was there. Nice and ninja-like, you know? But I changed my mind about halfway through. These people actually like me. It'd be stupid to push that away._

_When I knocked the door, mentally rehearsing my lines (it was supposed to go something along the lines of, "Hey Ben. Merry Christmas. Bye."), the first person to come into my line of vision was this really short, chubby Chinese man dressed like Uncle Sam._

_I'm serious. I saw a Chinese man. Dressed like Uncle Sam._

_I honestly thought I had the wrong house for a second. _

_The man stared at me, his black, beady eyes shining brightly from beneath two white, bushy eyebrows. His thin, wrinkled lips were shaped into a curious, unassuming "o," and he said in a low, calm voice, "Who are you?"_

_I said absolutely nothing in response._

_And then Meela showed up. Thank God._

--

"Jimmy darling! What are you doing here?"

Meela stood outside on the frozen front porch, shivering in her faded jeans and her white cashmere sweater. Jimmy saw that the brand tags were still attached to her sweater collar, but he pretended not to notice when Meela turned her bright blue eyes to him, her lips stretched into the soft, unassuming smile that he was now accustomed to seeing.

"Please excuse Mr. Sai," she said with a small, embarrassed blush. "But he meant no harm. He's really nice, once you get to know him."

"Meela!" the old man hollered from inside the house. "Come in, please! It's far too cold for a young woman of your delicacy to be standing outside for such a long period of time!"

"Kaigu!" Another voice, a woman's this time, snapped irately at the old man's. "Leave the poor girl alone!"

"Would you two shut up and help me move the bum?!" Benji's voice, a loud, frustrated yell, sounded from deep within the confines of the little home. "Damn it, he's being all moody and whiney again!"

Meela visibly paled at these harsh words, and she hid her face in her hands. "Oh, Benji…"

"Who're all those people?" Jimmy asked curiously, trying to peek over Meela's shoulder. Which, given the woman's tall height, was easier said than done. "Are they your…err…friends?" He blinked when he caught a glimpse of an auburn-haired woman, who was dressed as George Washington, complete with an accurate wig. She was chasing after the Chinese man, laughing hysterically as she held some mistletoe over her head.

Old people love. How sickeningly romantic.

Further inside, he saw Benji push something up the stairs, but what or who it was Jimmy couldn't quite make out…

Meela grabbed his shoulders and swung him around so that he was facing her and only her. "Saint Jimmy," she said with a suddenly nervous smile, "what brings you to our humble home? I thought a nice boy like you would be with his fam…err…_friends_ during the holidays."

He wished she hadn't so obviously substituted _friends_ for _family_. But, knowing who her son was, Meela would probably know all about his whore of a mother. Jimmy sighed, and hung his head. "Mom's busy," he muttered. "Besides, even if she did have time to take me to the Caribbean with her…I can't go. I have to perform for Lady Jacqueline tonight."

Suddenly, Jimmy smiled and stuck out his arm, pulling back his sleeves to reveal a black and red wristband, with the words "Good Luck!" written on the length of the band in bright yellow letters. "I like your present, by the way," he said with a grin. "It's a spirit lifter. Thanks."

Meela smiled. "I'm glad you like it, Jimmy. It was just a silly little thing, so I was worried that it wouldn't suit your tastes…"

"Really, it's doing me a lot of help, calming my nerves and stuff." The boy looked down and kicked at the ground, "So uh, I… I sorta dropped by here to say 'hey' to Benji. I mean, it's the holidays and all, and I've got my performance tonight."

Meela hesitated, and really, she did, all before letting out a sigh and saying very quietly, "I'll go fetch him." And she said it with a smile.

--

**Please read and review! I hope no one minds Roxy being placed into the story and suddenly playing such an important role in Benji's life. But things will be explained with oncoming chapters.**

**Enjoy!**


	2. Observation 23: Saint of Liars

Disclaimer: Bully/Canis Canem Edit belongs to Rockstar

Disclaimer: Bully/Canis Canem Edit belongs to Rockstar. Original characters belong to their respective owners.

A/N: Another chapter! With a bit of Benji and Roxy in it. And how WILL Adrian and Jimmy fare for their performance? Please enjoy and don't forget to leave a review! Sections in complete Italics are flashbacks.

**Observation Twenty-Three: Saint of Liars and Cheaters**

"_Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice._

_From what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire.  
But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate  
To say that for destruction ice, is also great, and would suffice."_

- Robert Frost, _**Fire and Ice**_

Human emotion was always an interesting thing to think about sometimes. It was ever so complex, always the basis of art and prose, always the center of love and hate, and always the most dominant force behind all actions.

Benji knew this all too well. But being a boy his age and his situation, he never had the time to think about it, or at least explore it further in the artworks and stories he would produce in his free time. After all, he had to deal with all sorts of trouble from school, particularly from one Adrian Aquaberry.

Or Ace. Or whoever he was at the present timeline.

He made his way downstairs, finally done with his deed, but his growing anticipation for that steaming mug of chocolate goodness was cut down instantly when he saw a familiar freckled face standing there in the front of the house, shrugging off his coat and doing away with the black beanie on his head.

Squinty eyes looked up to shocked brown ones, and thin, cracked lips stretched into a smile. "Hey Ben. Merry Christmas."

"Hey… Jimmy."

Meela could see the obvious discomfort between the two boys (which baffled her somewhat, for over time she had come to know of Saint Jimmy and his relationship with her dear son, and she had thought that the two were very close friends). Coughing nervously, she stepped in between the two and quickly offered, "Why don't you take a seat, Benji? I have some drinks heating on the stove—they should be almost done by now. Would you like one, Jimmy?"

The boy, in return, smiled politely. "Yeah. That'd be great."

--

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It went on like that for what seemed like forever. Each tick…each tock…it made the intensity of the silence between the two boys _that_ much greater. Even the dead could sense the uneasiness, the whole "male pride getting in the way" sort of scenario.

Benji in all honesty didn't want Jimmy sitting in his living room. For once it wasn't personal—the small boy didn't want anyone from school sitting in his living room. He just wanted to spend time with his momma, with the one woman who really, truly gave a damn towards him. Maybe even the boarders too, strange as they might be.

He wanted to let go of Bullworth Academy and the string of problems that came with it for this one little break. That was all he asked for, really, and with Jimmy being here, that one small miniscule wish couldn't be granted. And to think that the day had started off so well. He had almost relaxed to the point of tolerating even his deadbeat father, but now…here they were. Sitting on the living room couch, neither of them having taken a sip of their drinks. Both boys stared uncomfortably at their mug of cocoa while their ears mindlessly lingered on the laughing that came from the kitchen.

In the end, it was Benji who broke the silence, tired of the waiting game, tired of hearing that damned clock in the corner, and tired of listening to Loretta's laughing (which, in all honesty, did get a bit obnoxious over time).

"How'd you find me, Jim?"

It was a simple enough question, and one the wheat-blond boy wanted to know the most. He had never revealed his address to anyone, including the school (for apparently, they had mistaken his '5' as an '8', so the neighbors had to deal with the menial task of delivering some of the mail to them). Only one person actually knew where he lived, and she would never tell.

She wouldn't. Would she? No. She wouldn't…

"Jim…?" Benji prodded on, not liking the boy's silence. In fact, the silence actually scared him, because Jimmy was a man of actions and was never good at words. It usually meant something bad when the older boy would just clam up and not say anything.

Finally, Jimmy let out a soft sigh. "I found out from this office clerk, okay? He didn't say much, but y'know, I poked around." It was really the truth, for he found out of Benji's New York origins from an office kid. However…he more or less asked around and eventually got an address from Roxy, or rather a general area of where he stayed.

"You liar," Benji muttered, narrowing his eyes. His tone was harsher and much colder than he intended it to be, but he was in no mood to humor Jimmy at the moment. He wanted to be alone, and he wanted to get his point across once and for all. "Tell me who it was."

"It…it was just someone around school."

"It was Roxy, wasn't it?"

Ouch.

Jimmy didn't know why, but he could feel something stab right through his very being. Perhaps it was the way Benji spoke, but the older boy was getting more and more surprised at the feelings he himself displayed these days, and this moment certainly wasn't an exception.

_Guess you aren't such a runt, after all._

"I should've known better." Benji smiled bitterly to himself. "She's always such a worry-wart. Did she send you?"

"No, came here on my own. She told me, though I think she felt really bad about it afterwards."

"She promised herself not to break anymore promises." The younger boy mumbled, looking down in annoyance. "Damn it Roxy…"

"She was worried about you. And I—" Jimmy held his tongue. Dare he mention he spent the whole day worrying over the little brat, despite the curses and less-than-pleasant language he used when he asked about the boy? "I mean…what I meant was…I mean…ugh."

_Way to go! Now you look like a pussy in front of a kid. Ten stars to you Jimmy, ten stars!_

He was trying his hardest to save face, but Jimmy never got that chance to regain whatever pride he let scatter away. Benji cut off all chances of that when he smiled and simply said, "It's okay. I guess I should've told you earlier."

_Okay…? How is this okay?_

"How do you know that Roxy girl?" Jimmy pressed on, frowning at the small boy in irritation. "Why didn't you tell me about her?" _Don't you trust me? Man, way to make a guy feel low, Ben, I mean really!_

He didn't answer immediately, but whatever explanation that Benji would give, Jimmy could care less, so as long as he got a plausible reason.

"I've been meaning to, really, but I didn't think you two would've gotten along," Benji took his mug, finally taking a sip and staring mindlessly into space. "You're all… tough, and she's really a big crybaby."

"That doesn't make sense though, when'd you meet her and shit? I thought I knew you first." Jimmy wanted to slap himself for saying that, for it sounded very much like something two jealous girls would say to one another before a catfight, claws and pawing abound. But he had a bit of a reason, he thought, for the hurt feelings that he felt whenever Benji would reveal these secrets that everyone but him seemed to know; he felt his seniority challenged, that it was made null and void. Essentially, he did a lot for the little brat ever since he first landed in Bullworth grounds.

Damn it, didn't Benji appreciate _anything_ he did for him?!

"Orientation," It was a simple answer, the younger boy preferred his answers simple, but a little elaboration never hurt, "She was with Darcy's parents. Apparently she knew Derby. You should know her."

"I should, but I don't."

--

"_Doll face!" Benji could hear some of the older boys saying those two disturbing words, especially when they leered at him with a glint in their eyes. That never meant anything good, ever. And it scared Benji witless when they kept staring at him._

_So he found himself a moment of solace when he stumbled upon a fountain, the tranquil sounds of flowing water with rustling leaves put his nerves at ease, and he could forget about those weird boys for now. Taking out a sketchpad and a pencil from his beaten bag, he began to draw rough drawings of random heads and fantastical looking people._

_And he was doing a mighty damn good job of it, until a very quiet voice said, "Her arms look too long."_

_He whipped around, nearly dropping his book into the water with fright, when he was met with two large blue eyes staring at him, never mind the smile this girl wore was sweet and kind._

"_I said her arms were too long, they should be shorter. I'm no artist, but I study anatomy." The girl said with a giggle, shy and apologetic, "Sorry to impose, I'll go back to my own business and—"_

"_No, no, no! It's okay, really. I mean, thanks. You just sorta scared me there for a minute," Benji adjusted his glasses and stared at the girl up and down, with her strange mix of leather and argyle clothing. He extended an arm out, both of them never taking their eyes off one another. "I'm Benji, what's your name?"_

"_Roxy, but most of my friends call me Nightingale."_

_He could see right through her, and he knew she could do the same back to him, what with her knowing smile and right choice of words._

"_Nightingale, that's… that's kinda pretty. Have you heard of that story about the mechanical nightingale by Anderson?"_

"_Everyone has, dear."_

"_It's a classic, it applies so much of real life to it, don't you think?"_

_She smiled, and he gave one in return. Knowing the metaphor, 'The Nightingale' was a famous story, known for its moral on appreciating something as itself, for what it really was, rather than something forced and fake. It was a story most knew, a story most understood, but so very few people applied the lesson, and lived their lives under watchful eyes of society._

_Ever since then, they had been friends and grew closer, through Peace Onmite's cheating ways, through Stewart's disturbing smiles, to the moments where Gary and Jimmy would piss him off._

_She was there for him when no one else was, she was there to listen and care for the young boy, and proud little Benji liked it, for many of the newer students didn't know about her._

_Even if the older Preps would look at her scornfully and call her a traitor, and the older greasers would pretend that nothing had happened, it was okay. They were friends, close friends._

_No one was going to take that away._

_--_

He thought it was silly Jimmy was hurt at him knowing Roxy first.

It wasn't as if they were lovers, they were friends. She was just a little caring than most, more sympathetic and always optimistic even if she did possess a rather dry sense of humor. Jimmy was a 'tough love' sort of person, and because of this it became hard to relate to things with him over time. Some things were never discussed, while some things were dealt with fists and punches (when simple words would have sufficed).

They were standing outside on the front porch now. Jimmy had excused himself, saying that he wanted to get some practice in for his performance tonight. It was a tricky song to play, with ridiculous licks and riffs, and Miss Hydee was certainly a woman of perfection.

Anything less and heads would definitely roll.

"So… are you coming tonight, Ben?" Jimmy scratched the back of his head, glaring at the small boy from the corner of his eye. "It's nothing special, but, y'know…it'll be a morale booster and stuff."

Benji shrugged. "Don't know, Jim. But Adrian's there, and I don't want any trouble with him later on. I'll just stay at home."

"I know, I know… He's a bitch to deal with though."

The small boy snorted. "Jimmy…you have absolutely no idea."

There it was again, tense silence, but nothing as severe as the one that happened between them in the living room. For a moment, the two boys simply stared at the falling snowflakes as they covered up the footprints that Jimmy had left in the snow just a few hours prior. In the distance, they could hear Meela laugh as Loretta and Mr. Sai sang in an off-key voice, "Three cheers for the red, white, and blue…YAY!"

"I think I better go now," Jimmy mumbled, breaking the silence. "Don't wanna waste the time I've got." As he turned away and headed towards the direction of a bus stop, he was frozen in his tracks when he heard Benji say:

"Good luck, Jim."

For a moment, the older boy was stunned. Then, with a smile curving at the edges of his lips, he turned back and grinned at the small boy. "Thanks kid."

--

Roxy never usually stayed late in school, so this was one of the few, far-fetched moments that she was still mulling over books and articles in the early evening. In the time that she had been enrolled in Bullworth and had started a relationship with the new greaser leader, Larry Romano, she had slowly taken up one of the unused garages as her small little hang out.

At least there weren't so many tools lying around, there was even a small couch to the corner (even if it was old and worn) and the smell of grease and metal weren't as noxious, it was pretty mild, actually. Over time, she had the habit of leaving some of her books there in a neat pile, to the point that it looked like something out of a bookworm's dreams.

This was the first stop she would make before classes, and the place where most greasers would try to find her first, as she was always alone with her books, maybe sometimes with Peanut (which would be when the greasers would quickly mutter an apology and walk out flushed red).

So it surprised her when she saw Ace coming into the area, looking rather shocked at seeing her sitting there with an open book resting on her lap.

"Hello there," she said with a smile, "Larry looking for me again?"

Ace looked around, seeming very scared and confused.

_She's not supposed to be here, _he thought in a panic._ Doesn't she usually go home at this time?_

"Ah, can't say Nightingale. Heh, I ah, I thought you went home already."

"No, I haven't. I thought I'd _talk_ with Larry for a little bit before leaving for home. Besides, my parents won't be back till late, I won't mind spending some time with my friends before I go home."

"Oh."

She patted the spot next to her, motioning for him to sit beside her, but he declined, "You sure? You seem a little jittery, Ace. Something up?"

"No… no, nothing's up. I just ah, I just thought I could get a little breather in here for a minute."

"Really?"

"Yeah, those girls can't seem ta keep their hands off me."

"I beg to differ." This was a cutting remark, but one she said with a smile. "But really, you look work out, and a bit shaky. Are you alright?"

He jerked away when she got up and reached over to his forehead, "Really! I'm fine. I just… I just thought I needed—"

"Who are you trying to fool?" Roxy said suddenly, getting up from her seat and frowning as she placed her hands on her hips in an attempt to look intimidating. "Honestly, stop lying so much, you bloke! You think I haven't noticed?"

"What the—I—I don't—" Ace sputtered indignantly, trying to maintain his composure. "I don't know what'cha talkin' about!"

"I know who you are. Stop trying to kid yourself, Adrian, I know that's you."

"Adrian? That preppie? Naw, you gotta be kiddin' me. I ain't no prep-scum, I work on bikes all day, I listen ta Buddy Holly and shit. Ponyboy stays gold in MY books."

"You're wearing Aquaberry loafers. Derby Harrington wears the same pair, actually."

And here, Adrian's jaw dropped, and his voice returned to that of an authentic English accent. "H-how did you…?"

"Why do you think those 'prep-scum', as you refer to them as, call me a traitor when I pass by?"

He was about to say something to this, when he heard the door open, with the leader standing there, "Nightingale, you wanna go around for a walk? Hey Ace," he acknowledged the younger boy's presence.

"Of course I'll go with you. I don't want to spend all my time alone at home."

"I'll be seein' ya around, Ace." Peanut saluted the boy.

"Yes, see you tomorrow."

_How does she know?_

--

Lady Jacqueline was known for her finicky attitude when it came to schedules and time slots. So, she had set up a performance schedule for all of her music students, and punctuality was a must if one wanted to avoid getting docked of any points.

The time slots were based on the difficulty of the songs and the musical experience of the student himself. Students with little experience playing an instrument, or those playing relatively easy songs were slotted to play earlier in the day. Those with more experience, who were playing more difficult pieces, were arranged to play at later times to allow them a few more hours of practice.

Luckily for Jimmy, his performance was one of the last ones scheduled; set at a serene time of 8:00 P.M. Surprisingly, Adrian was also scheduled to play in the night, and was slotted to perform just before Jimmy. No one knew why Lady Jacqueline allowed Adrian to play amongst the masters, but everyone agreed on one thing: the Aquaberry heir needed all the practice he could get.

Still…a pair of earplugs was definitely a must.

But Jimmy didn't complain. Other unfortunate students were forced to play at six in the morning. The morning! The rumors of desperation for the unlucky ones were rampant—Jimmy heard that Parker had dumped an entire bucket of icy cold water on his head before his performance in order to look livelier, and there were mentions of Thad having consumed several _pots_ of coffee in order to have enough energy to play the tuba-based song, _Flight of the Bumblebee_.

"Thi-th th-ong," Thad had lisped to him in the past, "ha-th too many note-th. The horror, Jimmy! The HORROR!"

And indeed, the song had FAR too many notes. How Thad ever managed to get a B grade from Lady Jacqueline was inconceivable, if nothing short of a miracle in everyone's books.

In Jimmy's opinion, Thad should have been slotted at Adrian's time. _Flight of the Bumblebee_ was a horrendous song to play, and for the rest of Christmas Day, Thad was lisping so terribly that not even the Nerds were able to understand anything he said. Which said quite a lot, especially since their little group had developed something of a skill at understanding the poor red head whenever he was pressured or tense.

It was already seven in the evening, and there were no signs of Adrian anywhere, and Jimmy gulped at the sight of a very irate looking Miss Hydee, sitting in the front row of the auditorium, tapping her pen against the clipboard and wearing a very sour expression.

_This isn't going to end well…_

THUMP! BANG! CRASH!

Jimmy and the other musicians stopped their practices and turned to the source of the noise, even some of the curious onlookers from the front of the stage heard the commotion, and some tried to peer behind the heavy, navy blue curtains.

And no surprise it was the infamous Adrian Aquaberry, looking a little less polished than he normally was. His long black hair wasn't as neat as it used to be, with stray hair coming every which way, he looked frazzled, tired, and certainly like he came from somewhere in an awful rush.

_Playing make-believe again, Adrian? Tch._

Gord was, naturally, on the young heir's tail, "Are you alright? Did those horrible greaser scum hurt you?" He said, trying to coo his lover and soothe him, "Oh don't think about them anymore, they're nothing but riff-raff trash, they turn the elite into one of them, how horrible is that!" The auburn haired boy gently massaged the other boy's shoulders, "Don't feel tense, you're a wonderful pianist."

"Thank you, ever so much Gord," Adrian spun around and held the boy around the waist, pulling him close and staring deeply into the other's bright brown eyes, "You're always there for me when I need it the most, you're so precious to me."

"A-Adrian! We… oh, you dirty thing, it feels strange with everyone watching."

"Let them watch, as I profess my deepest love towards you, my heart, my soul it all—"

"GROSS!" Jimmy interrupted them rather loudly, wearing a cocky grin as he drummed his fingers on the guitar's sleek red body, "Whoops. Did I say that out loud?" He said in a mocking voice.

"Hopkins!" Adrian never really liked the boy, and he had even more reason to, "Can't you respect a little personal space?"

"It's a little hard to, I mean, you're about to French the guy in public. I think we have kids here too," the freckled-face teen noted a young Melody Adams from the corner of his eye, watching intently at the couple, "Shame on you."

"Filth!" He stuck his nose up the air, smoothening his hair and attire, returning to the cleaned up look he was so famous for, "I have a performance. Out of my way!" As he walked on stage, a young, lithe boy with a banjo on his arms, and Adrian's notorious older twin siblings (in possibly the most dandiest out there) followed behind.

"Our next performance is from Adrian Aquaberry, with his rendition of 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star'! Let's hear it for him!"

As he took his seat and greeted the applause he received, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

_You can do this._

Though, he did find it insulting, when he saw a pack of ear plugs sitting innocently by Miss Hydee's side, and by other students as well.

_I'll show them._

The first few notes hit, everyone squeezing their eyes and ears shut for the ear-shattering experience. But as their ears weren't quite bleeding _yet_, they let up and much to the surprise of practically everyone who attended, Adrian was actually… very good. In fact, the audience kind of enjoyed it too. Especially since he was backed up by two attractive twins and a talented banjo player.

'Twinkle, twinkle little star,

How I wonder what you are…'

_The new Aquaberry diamond earrings mother bought._

It just boggled the minds of everyone who came. It was one of the most pleasant surprises that was held in store for the night.

'Up above the world so high

Like a diamond in the sky…'

_A very polished and expensive one at that._

'Twinkle, twinkle little star,

How I wonder what you are'

Jimmy had to hand it to Adrian, he did know how to entertain. He took a sweeping bow and blew kisses, uttering words of thanks to the enthusiastic crowd. And he couldn't be more pleased, as he noticed Lady Jacqueline scribbling something down on her clipboard with a smile.

--

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	3. Observation 24: Don't Ever Chage

Disclaimer: Bully/Canis Canem Edit belongs to Rockstar

Disclaimer: Bully/Canis Canem Edit belongs to Rockstar. Original characters belong to their respective owners. I don't own "Stairway to Heaven", that belongs to Led Zeppelin.

A/N: I'm really sorry for the late update. I haven't been feeling all too well and I've been rushing with finals and dance routines! Again, much apologies, I hope no one has forgotten the fic just yet! I hope everyone enjoys!

**Observation Twenty-Four: Don't Ever Change**

"_So please don't ever change,  
no don't you ever change.  
I kind of like you  
just the way you are..."_

- The Beatles, _**Don't Ever Change**_

He bowed, taking in the cheers and applause of the audience. Adrian had never felt so smug in his life, for he finally showed the non-believers and nay say-ers the true pinnacle of his woefully underappreciated talent. He blew kisses and gave the crowds a word of thanks for watching, and as he walked to the back of the stage, trying to squeeze every glorifying moment he can, he looked at Jimmy with an eyebrow raised and a rather disapproving look.

"Well Hopkins, you're up next. Ready to play that trashy little number you dare call music?"

The other boy was certainly by no means, impressed by the Aquaberry heir's behavior, and he gave Adrian a condescending smile as he said, "If they can clap their hands to that piece of shit you just pulled off, they'd be tossing roses at me."

"W-what? Why you filthy little—" But before Adrian could get another word out, the twins stepped forth and put their hands on their younger brother's shoulders.

And just as they took that step forward, it sent Jimmy a good three steps back. Because no matter how alike and how androgynous they looked, he could never get over the fact that they were related and quite possibly insane. With the way they seemed to _enjoy_ pretending to be the other gender, they frightened Jimmy to an all time record, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it.

Hell, he'd be more surprised if there were actually people who weren't afraid of Angelina and Andrew Aquaberry…

"Now Jimmy-James," one of the twins (who looked like Andrew but sounded terrifyingly like Angelina) said to the boy in a rather defensive manner. "Don't you ever speak to our baby brother like that again! How can you be so rude and thoughtless?"

"Yes," agreed the other twin (who looked like Angelina but reminded Jimmy horrifyingly of Andrew). "Our dearest Adrian's been practicing for so long and trying so hard to put on such an amazing show! You should at least be respectful!"

A muscle went off in Jimmy's jaw. _I see the bitchiness runs in the family…_

He rolled his eyes and gave a displeased glare at Adrian, who was no sooner dragged off further down the wing by his cooing, impressed siblings, showering the poor thing with praises left, right and center. Naturally though, Jimmy knew that they probably didn't mean a word of it (and if they did, Jimmy had feared for mankind's sudden drop in taste) and were giving Adrian encouraging remarks.

Truth of the matter was that the audience was really quite impressed at Adrian's presentation, not so much the actual music playing. Needless to say, Jimmy knew that Jacqueline Hydee might give the Aquaberry heir a less than favorable mark, should she decide to be a little more rational that night.

"Last, but not least, is Jimmy Hopkins and his rendition of the Led Zeppelin classic; Stairway to Heaven. Give it up for Jimmy, everyone!" A roar from the audience could soon be heard, and Jimmy couldn't help but manage a small smile when he heard the distinct drawl of Christy Martin yelling out "WE LOVE YOU JIMMY!"

Flattered as any boy his age could be, he took the guitar by the neck and walked out with a newly instilled sense of confidence. He shielded his eyes from the sudden glare of the spotlight on stage, but he quickly got used to it, admiring the eager smiles from friends in the audience.

Walking over to the chair placed in the center, he spoke a few words into the microphone, adjusting himself to be a little more comfortable.

"Uhh... hi everyone, thanks for coming. Tonight I'm playing 'Stairway to Heaven' by Led Zep, as you all know." There were a few stifled giggles from the audience, mostly from the girls who had admired him. "Before I start, I'd like to thank Miss Hydee for giving me a chance to play up here." Jimmy winked at the music teacher below, figuring that it wouldn't hurt to butter up the woman as he spied something of a small smile forming on her lips. "And also, I'd like to give out a small shout out to a friend. He isn't here tonight, but this kinda goes out to him. Right, here we go..."

He felt all sorts of stupid for saying such a thing. The fact that he didn't need to say it made him feel even sillier still, but after his small encounter with Ben earlier in the day and his discovery of the wheat-blond boy's secret friendship with Roxy Smith, somewhere, deep down, Jimmy just wanted to prove to Benji that he was just as good as a friend as some wallflower of an English girl, if not better.

_Damn, I sound like a fucking chick._

He slowly started his master-level recital, noting that grins were still plastered on most of the audiences' faces. Fingers on the fret board and a worn but trusty pick in his grasp, he began to play the first few notes of the song, each one as haunting as the original, as true as Jimmy Page's plucks and strums.

"There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold,  
And she's buying a stairway to heaven,  
And when she gets there she knows if the stores are all closed,  
With a word she can get what she came for..."

There was a roar from the audience, with shrieks and squeals this time around. While somewhat distracting, it just proved to Jimmy he was going in the right way, and it only encouraged him further.

He sang and played just as well as any talented guitarist. There were moments where he would catch himself slowly losing grip, where his fingers would hurt a little bit from holding the strings down too hard, but luckily he regained himself, he managed through just fine.

Hell, he managed far better than _Adrian_ did. His number was not only long, it was also complicated. And while Led Zeppelin had the luxury of doing many other takes and far more practice time than Jimmy could have, he was feeling rather well about his performance. This of course, earned Jimmy a little bit more merit than the pathetic excuse of a nemesis who called himself Adrian Aquaberry.

"There's a feeling I get when I look to the west  
And my spirit is crying for leaving  
In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees  
And the voices of those who stand looking"

_You can do this Jimmy..._

"And it's whispered that soon, if we all called the tune  
Then the piper will lead us to reason  
And a new day will dawn for those who stand long  
And the forest will echo with laughter"

He was near the end. Beads of sweat were rolling down the side of his face, courtesy of the hot and powerful spotlights. He could feel his fingers losing their grip—they hurt now and his reactions were getting a little bit slower. It was a little bit more difficult to move from chord to chord, moving up and down the board became a little harder, and he found harder and harder to hold the neck.

"And as we wind on down the road  
Our shadows taller than our souls  
There walks a lady we all know  
Who shines white light and wants to show  
How everything still turns to gold  
And if you listen very hard  
The tune will come to you at last  
When all are one and one is all, yeah  
To be a rock and not to roll  
Ooooooooooooh"

He hit the final note, the sound roaring through the auditorium like a scream from an otherworldly being. It was like a moment of tense suspense, everyone remained quiet, waiting for the final line...

"And she's buying a stairway to heaven..." Jimmy sung softly into the microphone, eyes closed and soul relieved. He grinned widely and uttered "thank you" to the audience as they cheered and applauded for his amazing rendition.

As he took one final glance at the screaming, clapping, cheering faces, he saw a person, far in the back with an old, heavy coat on his small frame and a worn scarf, smiling at him. This little boy was gently waving, and Jimmy could see a distinctive mop of wheat blonde hair and a pair of glasses as plain as they came.

"Ben...?" His jaw dropped.

_Now I really look like a pussy._

--

The show was soon over, the marks had been written down on that dreaded clipboard. Lady Jacqueline, in her more popular persona, had mentioned to the students that the grades will be announced soon, how everyone did a good job. Of course, there was still the matter on whether or not she would stick to traditional classics or throw some modern tunes into the mix. As she turned to leave, she simply said, "You'll soon know, my little dears."

She practically danced out of the exit, with a pop in her steps and a tune on her lips. Singing away with car keys in her hand and twirling in the snow.

You just had to wonder about her sometimes.

Snowflakes were falling from the sky now, as Jimmy had packed up his guitar and made plans to sleep his way through the week. He deserved it for many reasons; for having to watch for that prick of a boy called Benji, for having to put up with a crazed, bi-polar music teacher who made him play a hellish number (even if he did do well, his fingers were sore and some were beginning to bleed), and just for putting up with the hell called Bullworth Academy.

He _deserved_ a week long nap. The drama that the other students liked to put on his shoulders was enough to make him kill, and he deserved such a long period of sleep because he was the king on winter-fucking-break. If he wanted to hibernate like a bear and eat a room full of junk food, then by all means he would.

But first, he had to find the mysterious little stranger, the bringer of both encouragement and embarrassment to young Hopkins. Whipping around the corner of the fountain, he saw the figure walking towards the parking lot in a brisk walk.

"BEN!" He called out. "HEY! Ben! Is that you?" There was no answer, and this made the boy scowl more than anything. "HEY! You little dipshit! Can't you hear me?!"

The figure then stopped and turned, his little mouth twisted in a frown as he threw Jimmy an annoyed glare. "Can't you think of a better way of attracting my attention without cursing me, Jim?"

"Nothing else seems to work, kid." Grinning, Jimmy didn't hesitate for even a moment and made his way over to Benji, slapping a hand on the younger boy's back. "Hey, why were you there? Why'd you come tonight?"

"Err…" Benji didn't answer. He didn't know _how_ to answer, let alone find a good excuse for his attendance. Jimmy was in the right after all. He was encouraged to not come in order to avoid any trouble between him and that dastardly Aquaberry heir. But no, here was the little brat, standing before him in a horrible old coat.

"Well?" Jimmy prodded.

The younger boy shrugged and said as a matter-of-factly, "I guess... I guess I wouldn't be such a good friend if I didn't come to see you perform tonight. My conscience has enough guilt as it is." He gave the older boy a pat on the arms, "I was really impressed tonight, you know. I think you might actually make something of yourself."

Jimmy had his jaw wide open, nearly touching the floor. He couldn't believe what the boy had just said. No one ever said those words of encouragement to him before, and to hear them from Benji was the last thing he had ever expected. So far was he in his disbelief that he didn't even bat an eye or break out of his surprised stance when Benji bade him goodbye and disappeared within the crowd.

"What the hell...?"

Indeed, what could anyone say in such a situation. But Benji was a boy of mystery, a riddle wrapped in an enigma; no one can ever expect anything out of him. All the same, Jimmy warmed up, realizing the implications of the conversation. He couldn't help the smile that was forming on his lips.

"Ben, you're such an asshole." He picked up his guitar and made his way back to the dorms.

Time for that week long nap.

--

Adrian had finally gotten away from the twins, hastily rubbing his cheeks and trying to rid himself of the so-called taint his older siblings had given him. As he swung around the corner leading to the Harrington House, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the infamous "Nightingale" talking in a rather friendly manner to Gord Vendome.

She was wearing a rather expensive looking coat, with an expensive looking scarf and hat to match. From his days parading about as Ace, Adrian had never thought of Roxy as anything else but a kinder-than-normal greaser girl. Oh, the Aquaberry vest, she explained, was a symbol that she was just as tough as the rest of the clique, for she had claimed it was stolen off Pinky when she was much younger.

But now it made a bit of sense, seeing as that he had never understood why Peanut would roll his eyes at the story and tell the girl that "one day, you'll do it for real." Well, now he knew.

"Gord..." Adrian approached the pair, walking a bit more cautiously than normal. "What on Earth are you doing out here, shouldn't you head home? It's getting rather late, don't you think?"

"Oh, you're so sweet," the shorter boy giggled, as the darker haired prep began playing with his scarf. "I was just about to head home, but dear Roxanne needed to get back with her roots."

"Quite the understatement," she laughed off. "No, no, Adrian dear, I just wanted to hand off a few presents to Gord. Christmas and all that, might as well get into the giving spirit while I can." She straightened herself up, with a jovial manner she said, "Right, off I go. I see the lovely Miss Gauthier over there and I simply must hand these little surprises to her. I'll see you both whenever I do. And Gord, do stay out of trouble."

"Even if you are a traitor, I commend you on your delightful gifts," he replied with a smile, "Don't worry about me misbehaving, it's what I have Adrian here for." He put his hands on his lover's chest, and gazed up into the Aquaberry heir's eyes lovingly. "Isn't that right, my dearest cuddle-bunny?"

"Yes, yes," Adrian said absently, patting Gord carelessly on the head. "Quite true, angel-wings. Must be on my way now, cheers to you both."

Gord and Adrian made their way into the Harrington House, thankful for the warm, cushy interior and certainly having to rid themselves of the cold, wet coats at the front. Sitting by the common room before a blazing fireplace, cups of hot drinks in each of their hands, they soon began idle chattering.

"Tell me, my dearest Gord," the dark-haired prep began, "why on Earth did you call that Roxanne girl a 'traitor'?"

He didn't have to know _why_ per se, but rather, he wanted to know the history. Just how did that girl manage through siding with the greasers and yet making ample time for some of the preps?

"Oh, really, it's certainly not like we enjoy each other's company. I don't think anyone else does too, we never really liked her from the start, and she was always a bit too quiet and studious for our tastes, even if she was quite fashionable at the time."

"What happened?"

"If it weren't for those grease monkeys, she wouldn't have been persuaded by their roguish charms to have thought of even joining them. I'd like to think that it was entirely her fault though, I hate to speak ill about Derby, but I think he shouldn't have pushed her too far." Gord paused to take a sip from his mug, before sighing and shaking his head. "It's not that I'd care to sympathize for her or anything, but it seems such a damn shame…"

Soon, Adrian was caught up in this story that happened not too long ago, where a girl of English origins had set out for the preps and their elite ways. But she had long grown disillusioned of the glamorous life, instead, much preferring to retire to something a little more grounded and laid back. Enter the greasers, who were the just the right amount of scruff, dirt and street honor to make her weak in the knees and her heart set a-blazin'.

She was highly regarded in most social circles still; hence the faux politeness and faked smiles the other preps would give, even if they would distastefully call her out as a traitor when she was with her more preferred clique. Roxy never did care for it, she was in fact, very pleased with herself that she was able to stand in the auto shop grounds, Aquaberry clad, and not get beaten up (even if did ruffle some of the new greasers' feathers a bit).

In spite of himself, he began to remember things, the people he met, and the designers he worked with. And eventually, a face popped up, a young English girl. A daughter of one of his most treasured designers, sitting placidly in the Rainbow Room in Kensington. She wore her black and red uniform of her former school, hair slightly longer and manners a little bit more reclusive, but she remembered him and he remembered her.

"That's how she knows me... that's how she figured it out..." the Aquaberry heir whispered quietly to himself, still deep in thought.

"Excuse me? Did you say something?" Gord seemed to have caught it, but Adrian quickly pushed it away, simply stating that he was thinking out loud again, that it was just a lingering thought that needed no attention.

_This isn't good. What if she lets the others know? My life will be ruined if she so much as to breathe my identity to those other greasers... I'll have to have a word with her soon._

--

Meela looked up from her book as she heard the front door swing open. "Benji? Where have you been, darling? Mr. Sai said you stepped out to see a friend. Is that true?"

Benji put the coat on the rack and ran a hand through his hair, "Yeah, momma. I went to see Jimmy perform tonight. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier..."

The mother was, more than anything, just thankful her son was out of harm's way. But she would've liked to see Saint Jimmy perform. That boy had a habit of making her smile. "Well, did he do well? I'm sure he's very talented."

"Yes, momma, he put on a really good show." _Along with Adrian, but I'd never let you get anywhere near him. I can't risk it._

"At least you're back home. But next time, baby, please let me know where you're going and who you're seeing. You know it worries me so."

The wheat-blond boy snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. "For you information," he said flatly, "I happen to be a big boy, Meela."

"And I know you are," Meela replied sweetly, "but a mother worries now and forever…you know that." She got up and walked over to her son, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a kiss. "Would you like a hot drink, darling? It's really cold tonight. I still have some hot chocolate left over. We can heat it up again and talk about Jimmy's performance."

"I'm a bit sleepy," he muttered, before let out a long yawn and a stretch. "But…hot chocolate sounds really good."

"I'll tell you what. Why don't you get ready for bed and I'll get the drinks ready? We'll make a party out of it," Meela said with a smile, and despite himself, Benji couldn't hold back a smile either.

"Sure thing momma."

It was good to be home.

--

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